Issue one is often some variation of I have been hurt too often and too badly or see too much pain and evil in the world to believe in a loving God. What this usually means is that the person is consumed with and controlled by anger towards a being they claim not to believe in. I get it. I spent far too much of my life hurting myself to show God I was mad at Him. God was way up there on my first resentment list, second only to myself. There are many resources to answer the question of evil and the problem of pain if someone really wants to know the answer to if God is loving, then how can He allow.....? But I have found that most people who say things like that don't truly desire an answer. They want to be mad. They want to keep God off the throne of their lives, and this excuse is as good as any. I am no longer angry at God, and I truly believe that He loves me and you as we are, not as we should be. I also believe that He loves us enough not to leave us the mess that we are. I have seen the evidence of that love as big, bright and beautiful as the evil is dark and ugly. But the ironic thing is that I wasn't able to get past the anger and then surrender to God. I had to surrender first.
I was a lot like a wild horse that thought he was in control and needed to avoid be dominated by the person he feared. Whenever the man came near he ran, hid, kicked, bit, threw up his head and extended his stride. Look at me, the horse thinks. I'm wild and free and you can't catch or break me. Look how awesome and majestic I am. I see myself running through the wilderness with the movie in slow motion and an instrumental version of Born Free playing in the background. I am free and everyone should admire that and want to be free like me.
Poor deluded horse. The movie isn't in slow motion. It's just that misery always feels like time is crawling. It's joy that goes by at the speed of light. And that mental image of majestic independence is fiction. The truth is days struggling in the heat or cold trying to find enough food and water to survive. The truth is wolves and mountain lions and other horses and perhaps other predators all trying to hurt, to drive away, and even to kill. The truth is never truly being able to rest or know peace. The truth is harsh winters with never enough to satisfy. The truth is the ribs are showing, the mane is matted, there are cuts and scrapes and scars all over, and there is a panic in the eyes that never completely disappears. The truth is that he is dying, a slow and hard death.
Then one day the man captures the horse. The horse hasn't gotten over his fear and gone to the man. The man, seeing the misery and danger the horse is in has gone out of his way to find it. The horse fights the ropes and tries to escape the corral and fears the movements of the hands and sounds of approaching feet of the man. But slowly, over time, because the man is patient and ignores the threats and abuse the horse displays and just gently keeps caring for him, something begins to change.
The horse looks better. He is eating regularly and finds out what it feels like to be full. His coat shines with health and the care of brushing. His mane is not tattered and tangled. His water is always close at hand, and his thirst is quenched. There is shelter from the elements. The man and his dog keep the predators at bay, and the horse can sleep and rest without fear. Then the gentle taming, the feel of the saddle and the weight he feared of the man on his back. But even that is not bad like he thought. Now he has a purpose, and a companion, and he gets to run with a strength he didn't have before, with security he never knew and he is not alone. Now the horse feels truly alive, has purpose, truly is healthy and beautiful and doesn't live in fear and danger. And this is when we say he is broke?
Yes, I was this horse. I ran from God. I wanted to be free. I was mad at God and afraid of Him, especially the idea of His control over me. I didn't want to be broke and live as a servant. But I was broken in the wilderness, I was full of need and sickness and fear and despair and hopelessness. When I got hurt so badly I could no longer flee, after the panic had driven me into a place with no escape, I chose to let God take me from the wilderness rather than to die. I still feared God, and I was still mad at Him, but I feared and hated and was mad at the alternatives more. My image of God wasn't a gentle, loving, good Daddy. My image of God was that He was the lesser of the evil options that were all I had.
So I surrendered. Daddy took me in. Cared for me. Took His time. I think sometimes the reason the recovery is slow, that restoration seems to crawl almost as much as misery, is so that we can become accustomed to the patient, gentle, caring hands of the Father on us. Yep, I've been captured and broke and placed under the control of another and all those other things I feared about giving up my right to self rule and my independence. And the irony is now I feel free. I know what it feels like to feel satisfied and content. I know what serenity feels like. I am not dying to fill my mind and body and soul yet never having enough. I have learned through experience and time that Daddy's hands are gentle and kind, that He truly is good and His mercy does endure. That He does love us.
I lost the war of rebellion against the King. And He took this prisoner of war, removed my chains, cleaned me up, treated my wounds, and made me His son. And the great news is that I am not special or unique. He wants to do the same for you, Dear Reader. Maybe you can't wrap your head around the idea of a loving God because it's a truly alien concept to you. It's like trying to imagine the taste of ice cream when you've never even had sugar. But if you let Him, He will show you, and then you don't have to figure it out. You can simply experience it for yourself. Taste and see that the Lord is good, and He loves you. He is the easier, softer, more satisfying way.
We'll look at the other two issues in The God Problem in the upcoming Moments.
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